First prompt

Since this is the first week, Thursday by 8 PM will be your deadline for responding to the first text in this course. Below is a prompt question (again you may choose to respond to the question, or you may choose to present your own insightful response to the text).

First prompt question: Ferguson's Happiness presents the self-help book as nothing more than a packaged production meant to fill a publishing catalog. What is your opinion of self-help books, and why?

Response example (the following entry is around 350 words):
Even before beginning Will Ferguson’s Happiness, I read the back cover. “For those who choke on Chicken Soup for the Soul or have choice words for Dr. Phil,” the back cover claims to serve up a healthy dose of critical cynicism and inoculate against the pre-packaged twelve step plan of the self-help world. Even Jenni, Edwin’s automaton wife, heeds the creeds of women’s magazines absolutely obsessed with men and how to rid oneself of/please/do without them. I’ve always scoffed at self-help books and magazines alike, but I can’t help thinking that Edwin himself is in need of some major internal renovation. How does one better oneself without numbered and chaptered guides promising to give you confidence, make you more money, bring you happiness, etc.? Obviously bettering oneself has nothing to do with education in this text, as Edwin is a well-read (albeit jaded) editor who at one time got a master’s degree in English. Marriage doesn’t better Edwin since he and Jenni have never taken the time to truly bond or forge a meaningful relationship. Friendship doesn’t seem to better Edwin, given his penchant for falling into bed with female friends and fantasizing about their waxy red lips. So what in the world will save Edwin?

It’s one of the great ironies of this novel that when Edwin finally begins to take control of his life and work (even if he has to climb through excrement to put himself in gear) it is a self-help book that he must chase and of which he must finally recognize the power and potential.

I do laugh at Chicken Soup books, I do want to throw darts at a dartboard with Dr. Phil’s face on it, and I do really despise women’s magazines, but what if it isn’t the words or the plans or the steps or the pictures of fuzzy puppies on every page that help people? Action is far more powerful than words in many cases, and maybe Edwin must finally realize that sitting in a cubicle with a swamp of slush pile manuscripts won’t bring him happiness.